


Insomnia

by Seanbiggerstaffrox



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen, Kind of ends on a happy note, Nightmares, Stiles Has Nightmares, Teen for language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-18
Updated: 2013-01-18
Packaged: 2017-11-25 22:04:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/643428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seanbiggerstaffrox/pseuds/Seanbiggerstaffrox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Stiles has nightmares and can't sleep, which leads to thinking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Insomnia

Stiles wasn’t sleeping tonight. He’d made the unilateral decision the night before when he’d woken up in a cold sweat, terror coursing through him and lungs constricting painfully as the panic attack set in. When he’d finally managed to regain air and drag himself to the bathroom, his body quaking the whole way, there’d been a disconcerting blue tint to his lips and his eyes were bloodshot. He’d tried to wet his face, hoping the cold water would bring him back, but his hands had been shaking too hard and he’d ended up collapsing on the tiled floor, leaning back against the tub and closing his eyes, trying to calm himself down. It’d been fine afterwards and he’d gotten through school alright, but it wasn’t a situation he planned on repeating. So he wasn’t sleeping tonight, regardless of how his body felt about the issue. 

Instead, he was sipping Red Bull and staring at his monitor, where random Youtube videos were playing on the screen. He’d thought about watching porn, because masturbation usually made him feel better, but he’d probably have to be able to get it up for that to work, and…well, if Stiles was being honest, he was having some issues in that department.  


It had probably started when the nightmares had, though to be honest he couldn’t really pinpoint when that had been either. He remembered having some after the Peter Hale/Alpha incident. He couldn’t really remember masturbating around that time either, given the stress of everything and the fact that Lydia was in a coma. And then things started to get good again until the kanima happened and Stiles saw a dude get crushed to death under his jeep. 

Thinking back on it now, Stiles was a bit surprised that no one had actually asked him about it. Except Derek, who hadn’t actually been asking him about it but about the kanima, and he’d been doing it in the most asshole-ish way possible, so Stiles hadn’t been about to open up to him either way. It was kind of unfortunate really, given that if someone had asked Stiles about it, he’d probably know who to open up to now.

The nightmares had definitely come back full force after that, filled with brand new material. He hadn’t gotten long to muse on it though, because the next day he was busy trying to keep Derek from drowning in the school swimming pool and that lovely activity had come with brand new nightmares all their own. 

And then there’d been Matt. 

They’d been through a lot together, Stiles and Matt. Maybe not together-together, but they’d at least been in the vicinity of each other. And Matt had grown up in Beacon Hills too, so Stiles knew enough about the other boy to form an image of him. And now he definitely knew enough to at least understand why Matt had done what he’d done, even if Stiles didn’t agree with it. But none of that mattered, because despite all the things he could remember about Matt, all he ever really needed was the image of him cold clocking Stiles’ dad with Stiles laying on the floor, helpless to stop it. It had been Stiles worst nightmare laid out in front of him, brought to real life by some douchebag with a childhood grudge, because that’s all Matt’s ‘fury’ had ever been. So no, Stiles didn’t really feel bad that he was dead – maybe _how_ he died, because that was seriously fucked up, but not that he was dead. 

Even so, he’d officially upgraded to night terrors. And he had them about everything – getting crushed under his jeep, watching his dad get crushed under his jeep, dying in the pool because Scott didn’t show up, watching Derek die, watching Derek die while the kanima kept Stiles paralyzed and his dad got crushed by his jeep. Matt and whatever fuckery his brain could concoct (which was often extremely violent and bizarrely sexual. He’d always gotten a strange vibe about the whole Jackson-Matt thing, not that he’d mention it to anyone.) And then he’d jump from those dreams to ones about Peter and Lydia. And then Gerard would show up, because of course he was having dreams about Gerard.  


Gerard, who was old as shit, apparently had some form of cancer, and still managed to beat Stiles up. Because Gerard had spent his life hunting werewolves and Stiles was just some punk-ass kid trying to get by. 

And god, his dad. His dad had been wrecked when Stiles came home and Stiles just couldn’t fucking take it anymore. But Lydia had needed him and her and Jackson had some sort of fairy tale romance going on and Allison and Scott were star crossed lovers or something and Derek had his pack and Scott had Isaac now and Stiles had a jeep that once crushed a guy to death and a father with high cholesterol. Though to be fair, he wouldn’t give up either of those things for anything else in the world.  


And maybe that was a good thing, Stiles mused, staring dazedly at the wall as he tried to remain calm. Everyone he knew was always searching for something, trying to find that thing that made them happy or made their lives worth it. It was why Erica and Boyd and Jackson took the bite. It was why Scott obsessed over Allison. It was why Derek kept turning emotionally stunted teenagers. 

Stiles purposely left out Isaac from his thoughts, because there was no use comparing anyone’s life to Isaac’s and, though he’d never admit it to anyone ever, Stiles actually thought Derek had done the right thing. 

So maybe it was good that Stiles already had something to cling to. Maybe it was good that he already had everything he needed right here with him. Everything else – Scott, school, Lydia, werewolves – was just extra. And it was great (sometimes) but it was still extra. 

Stiles yawned and ran a hand tiredly over his eyes, fighting the urge to sleep. A knock at his bedroom door made him jump and he looked at the clock. 1:00 am. 

“Yeah?” He asked, turning and watching expectantly as the door opened. He ignored the relief that flooded through him when it was just his dad, because who else would it be, and subtly pushed the Red Bull out of view.

“Stiles?” John peered at his son curiously, standing in the doorway and taking in Stiles appearance. He didn’t look good. He hadn’t looked good in a while, honestly, but he looked worse now. Pale, bags under his eyes, sunken face. “You alright, son?” He asked.

“Yeah, dad, fine.”

“You’ve got school tomorrow.” John noted. 

Stiles eyes flickered to his bed and he shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah, I know. I’m just…studying. You know, trying to get those grades up.”

“Your grades are fine. Does this have anything to do with…” John lifted a hand and gestured at his face. “Those guys from the other team?” He finished lamely.

Stiles faltered. “No, it’s nothing. Just…couldn’t sleep.”

John nodded. “You’ve had a pretty exciting year.” He said. 

“Yeah.”

“You want to talk about it?” 

Stiles shook his head. 

“Well, come on.” John nodded his head. “I can’t sleep either and there’s an Andy Griffith show marathon on TV.” John said, ducking out of the room and smiling when he heard Stiles stand up. 

“You do realize the irony of you watching that, right?” Stiles asked, following his dad out into the hallway. 

“It’s not irony, its wishful thinking. You could learn a thing or two from Opie.” 

“I think you got that the wrong way round. Besides, I’m better than Opie.”

“Whatever you say, son.”

“Hey, you think Derek Hale’s watching Happy Days right now?”

John knew his son well enough to follow that train of thought and let out a snort of laughter.

So yeah, Stiles wasn’t sleeping tonight, and no, the nightmares probably wouldn’t go away. But as he and his father simultaneously said “Aye” using finger guns and his jeep sat peacefully in his driveway, he didn’t really mind.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, that didn't end the way I thought it would. Also, I guess Stiles has erectile dysfunction now.


End file.
